Six Months In, Still Going

I have been exercising regularly for about six months now, which is long enough to admit that I was a little ridiculous at the beginning.

I did not buy a home gym or start weighing blueberries. But I definitely treated the whole thing like a project that needed to be understood before it could be trusted. I wanted to know what my resting heart rate meant, what my maximum heart rate should be, whether my VO₂ max was any good, whether sleep really mattered as much as everyone said it did, and whether one bad night had somehow invalidated the previous three workouts. At the time this all seemed completely reasonable.

Looking back, I think I mostly wanted reassurance. I wanted proof that the effort was doing something, that I was not just getting sweaty, buying expensive clothes and congratulating myself for owning a water bottle. GRACE, of course, had plenty to say about all of it. It still does. I just react differently now.

A few weeks ago I got one of those general physical-health nudges. I will leave the actual information out of this, but earlier this year I would have spent twenty minutes wondering what had triggered it. Sleep? Heart rate? Stress? The workout before? Too much wine? Not enough water? Something mysterious and cardiovascular happening in the background?

This time I saw it, made coffee, went to work and forgot about it. That evening I exercised anyway. I felt a bit flat, did less than usual and stopped early. It was only later, in the shower, that I remembered the signal and thought, oh. Right. Apparently this is progress too.

I still look at the numbers. My resting heart rate is lower than it was. My VO₂ max is better. Stairs are easier, although I am slightly disappointed there was no satisfying moment when that became obvious. One day I simply reached the top without noticing I had reached the top. I would have appreciated knowing which trip up the stairs was the one I was supposed to feel pleased about.

There was one purchase from the early phase that deserves an update, though: the Motion Suite. I defended that thing quite passionately when I bought it. I remember using phrases like “serious investment in my health,” which now sounds exactly like something a person says after spending too much money.

To be fair, I still like it. The built-in support is genuinely good, so I do not need a sports bra, and the whole thing stays in place when I move. The fabric is light, it washes well, and I have worn it enough now that I no longer feel quite so much like someone playing the role of a person who exercises.

There is, however, one spectacular design flaw. If you need to pee, you have to take the top half off. I had somehow failed to give this any serious thought during my extensive research into the fabric.

Which means that somewhere in Silverdale there is now a gym bathroom where I have stood naked from the waist up because my extremely clever exercise suit has excellent built-in breast support. I can confirm that the support stops being a selling point when it is gathered around your knees. Nobody mentions this when you buy one.

So sometimes I wear an old T-shirt and normal shorts now, and nothing terrible happens. The Harmony shoes were good when I bought them. They are still good. I have no further comments on the shoes.

I think that is probably the biggest difference after six months. Exercise stopped feeling like something I needed to study. It is just something I do now, with varying levels of enthusiasm and occasionally very ordinary clothes.

The data is still useful. The GRACE signals are still useful. I just no longer feel compelled to interrogate every single one of them. I can have a bad workout without spending the evening trying to establish what it means about me. Usually it means I had a bad workout, and a few days later I go again.